


eternal

by orphan_account



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Episode: s03e18 The Citadel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:14:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23694475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Fives knows better than anyone that nothing is eternal.
Relationships: CT-21-0408 | Echo & CT-27-5555 | Fives | ARC-5555, CT-27-5555 | Fives | ARC-5555 & CT-7567 | Rex
Comments: 13
Kudos: 101





	1. echoes.

He doesn’t make it to his bunk.

He tries, he really, really does, but as soon as he steps foot inside the barracks, he panics.

_He’s not with me._

And he, the unshakable, cocky ARC trooper, could not let someone see him break. Because Fives was a lot of things, but he’d never been particularly weak. He ducks into a supply closet and rips his helmet off, throwing it at the wall, satisfied when there’s a sharp _crack._

_He’ll never be with me again._

It’s... it’s _wrong,_ this isn’t supposed to happen, not to them. They were untouchable, a team, so closely connected that he swore sometimes he just _knew_ what Echo was thinking, but the empty space by his side says otherwise.

There’s a strange feeling in his chest, this adrenaline that won’t fade, and he feels... he feels empty, _raw,_ like someone has flayed him open and left him to burn, and he can’t- cant _think_ past the way his head spins and his vision blurs and _please please please come back to me I need you-_

“Fives? Are you in here?”

He freezes, or he thinks he does, before tugging at his gloves anxiously, hoping that staying silent will make whoever’s there _go away,_ because he doesn’t _want_ them, he wants Echo, wants his best friend-

The door slides open, and Fives ducks his head, tries to- he doesn’t even fucking _know_ what he tries to do, but there’s hot tears on his face, and they’ll think he’s weak, send him back to the longnecks, wipe his memory of everything that makes him _him_ and he can’t do that, can’t lose himself when he’s barely begun to find-

“Hey, _vod._ ” It’s Rex, dropping down to sit beside him, not touching but close enough that it’s a clear invitation. The door slides shut. Fives holds his breath, because he knows that if he doesn’t, he’s going to let out a shaky sob, and he’s trying to _stop_ crying, _it’s fine, he’s fine, it’s just Echo, just-_

“Breathe, _vod’ika,_ it’s okay, just breathe.”

So he does, and he closes his eyes at the pitiful sound that comes out of his mouth at the action. He’s _better_ than this, he’s an ARC, the best of the best, he’s strong, he should be able to _handle_ this.

_Why did you have to leave me?_

The Kaminoans had said that they were made to withstand any stress, that they wouldn’t have such weaknesses, that they would be _unfeeling_. He wonders why they had lied.

“I’m so sorry.” Rex whispers softly, and Fives had almost forgotten he was there at all. He lets his head thump back against the wall, still tugging at his gloves uselessly, annoyed at the way they seem to practically _stick_ to his skin, and it’s too much, too hot, he needs them _off off off-_

“Hey hey hey, easy, here, let me help.”

Fives thrusts out his trembling hands, keeping his face turned the other way, because he can’t look Rex in the eye, can’t face the broken mess he’s become, and he lets out a soft exhale when his gloves are finally, thankfully removed. He pulls his hands back in to his chest, tucks them protectively in his lap and lets the silence fall over them.

He’s not stopped crying- hasn’t really since they’d left the Citadel, left _Echo,_ but the sobs have finally subsided by the time there’s a hand on his cheek.

His first instinct is to fight, but a second hand joins the first, until they’re cupping his face and turning it. Fives closes his eyes, bites down on his lip hard enough to draw blood, feels the weight of his tears on his lashes.

_I can’t do this without you._

A forehead, softly- _so softly that it hurts, that it makes something within him break at the touch, and a whine is working it’s way up his throat before he can stop it-_ presses against his own, and one of Rex’s hands snake to grab Fives’, pressing it against his chest, right over his armored heart.

“Breathe with me, _vod’ika._ In... and out. In... good, Fives, that’s good, and out.”

With his eyes closed, his other senses are amplified, and the chest rising beneath his hand, the press of their foreheads, the tears sliding down his cheeks and overflowing onto Rex’s hands, it’s all in painfully vivid detail, and he opens his eyes with a hitched breath.

Rex’s golden eyes stare into his hazel, not overbearing, just... there. There’s a sad glint in them, like it hurts him just as much as it hurts Fives.

“S-sorry,” He croaks, but the effort of speaking has more tears welling in his eyes, his chest tightening until he feels like he’ll snap. He will. He knows he will. Echo had kept him tethered, had leveled out Fives’ headstrong, stubborn attitude with his own calm and patient one.

_“You think too much,” Echo had told him, his eyes glistening with humor. “You may not act like it, but you do. Leave the thinking to me.”_

Rex tapped a finger gently against his cheekbone, successfully snapping him from his thoughts and bringing him back to himself with a stuttering breath. “It’s okay,” he whispers, so quietly that Fives has to strain to hear him, and Rex’s own eyes are watery. “It’ll be okay.”

Fives clenched his eyes shut tight, letting out such a powerful moan that it causes his forehead to slip from Rex’s forehead to the Captain’s chest instead. His hands grasp for anything to hold onto, only meeting the cool resistance of Rex’s armor, and he bangs a fist harshly into the unforgiving plastoid. The same plastoid that couldn’t protect Echo.

Rex is murmuring something soothing, no doubt, but Fives blocks it out, punches the _stupidly inadequate armor_ again, not minding the pain that flares in his knuckles.

He needs to understand, needs to know why Echo, of all people, had to leave him. The Force, the gods, he doesn’t _fucking care,_ he wants to know _who the hell thought they could take him away from him he **needs** him-_

“Fives.” Rex’s voice turns firm, all at once, and Fives stiffens, holding his breath. “Stop. You’re hurting yourself.”

The pain in his hand agrees, and he slowly eases his hands down to fall limp in his lap.

It hits him all over again.

_He’s not coming back, he’s not coming back, he’s not coming back, he’s **not** coming back he’s not coming back he’s not-_

“F-fuck,” he whimpers, and every inhale is like sandpaper rubbing against his throat, so painful that it makes his skin crawl.

“Easy,” Rex soothes, and Fives ignores him, because he’s _not Echo,_ he’s not-

_No one is Echo. No one will ever come close._

“He’s- he’s gone. He’s gone.” His voice is too high, laced with panic, and his breaths are turning to whistles, his throat closing and _closing_ and it _hurts hurts hurts-_

His head is yanked up so hard that he forgets how to breathe, blinking in momentary shock as Rex slaps him lightly on the cheek, worry in his eyes. “Fives, breathe. Just breathe.”

There’s black dots dancing in his vision, and he still can’t draw in a breath, staring slack-jawed in shock into Rex’s eyes.

_Leave me alone leave me alone leave me alone-_

Instead, there’s a sharp punch to the tender skin that stretched between ribs and hip, and he lets out a gasp of air, followed quickly by a shaky inhale. Rex lets out a relieved noise, and, after a few more tense moments of Fives’ ragged breathing, pulls him in until he’s practically in the Captain’s lap.

“You can do this,” Rex whispered into his hair, his arms tight and reassuring around him, even as he fell apart. “I know you can. He would want you to-“

Fives shoved out of his arms in a burst of renewed energy, shaky but determined, and he hiccuped, turned his face away from the shock radiating on Rex’s as he hurriedly stood. “Don’t, sir.” He pleaded, and Rex’s jaw tightened at the title.

“Fives-“

He ducked out of the room.

* * *

His hands are shaking, but that’s fine, everything’s fine, it’s just another night.

The rest of Torrent is eerily quiet, watching him carefully, like they think he’ll explode, and he supposed they’re not half wrong. They sit perched on their bunks, some feigning nonchalance, others openly staring with worry and sympathy in their eyes.

Keeping his eyes stubbornly away from the empty top bunk, he slides into his own, bringing up the blanket tight around his shoulders and closing his eyes.

He can do this. How many other brothers have lost friends, spouses, lovers and have had to deal with the repercussions? Have had to sleep alone and cold, while Fives had been the one to watch on pityingly?

He opens his eyes when the bunk shifts with someone’s weight, and he’s met with the image of Kix, sitting on the edge of the bunk with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Hey, I just wanted you to know I’m here for you, okay? If you need _anything.”_

Fives stares at him, his eyes burning, raw and swollen from crying, and he knows he must look like a fucking _corpse,_ but he stays silent. Kix can’t bring back the dead. Kix cant miraculously turn back time and save Echo. No one can.

Kix’s smile drops, his eyes dimming somewhat, and Fives almost works up the strength to reassure him, almost manages to bring a hand up to touch his arm, but it falls short somewhere, and he remains where he is. “Okay,” Kix says softly, and then he’s standing and giving him that same tired looking smile. “You know where to find me.”

He does know where to find him. Curled up in Jesse’s bunk, warm and content, and the thought leaves a sour taste in his mouth.

He manages to stop himself from thinking about _him_ until it’s lights out, and then his mind is _racing._

_I should’ve stopped him._

It would’ve been easy, wouldn’t it? Just said more than _“Echo!”,_ done more than take _one damn step._

_I should have grabbed him._

He was right there, he’d passed by so closely Fives could have _touched him._ He should have. He’d known it was suicide.

_Why did you have to be so fucking good?_

Echo was always the better of the two of them. Smarter, calmer, the perfect soldier, but so unconditionally kind and caring that it could take someone’s breath away. Somehow, despite Fives’ less than appealing humor and the woes of war, Echo had remained untarnished, glowing with the same brightness he’d had when they’d left Kamino, fresh and shiny and headed to Rishi station. It didn’t matter what happened, didn’t matter what they faced, because Echo could brush it off better than Fives ever could, could simply walk away and smile that _stupid_ dorky smile of his and shrug, saying “ _can’t change the past, now can we?”_ or _“learn from your mistakes, Fives, we’ll get it next time”._

But more importantly, Echo had promised.

He’d known how terrified Fives was, had known how the fear of being the last Domino standing kept him up at night, and he’d _fucking promised._ Fives remembered, because Echo had looked confused, had tilted his head with a small frown. _“Why would I leave you?”_ he had asked, and his voice had been so soft, so open and vulnerable, almost as if he was horrified that Fives had even thought of it. _“I’ll always be **here,** with you, where I belong. Always.”_

He wants his brain to be quiet, wants the memories to go away, wants the ache to cuddle with his _vod-_ _just one more time, please, just once, he’ll give anything just to feel Echo warm and alive under his hands, to breathe in his calming scent, please, one more time-_ to dissipate, but it only grows, and he pulls the blanket higher, until it’s nearly over his head.

He needs to keep his breathing even, needs to calm down before he wakes someone up, but it’s hard. It’s so, _so hard_ \- he can’t sleep on his own, not after knowing that _he’s_ dead, not after knowing that the bunk above him is cold and empty- and he hurts so much, a physical pain that he’s never felt before, and he wants _Echo, please just give him back to me please I need him I need him **Ineedhim** -_

A dip in his bunk has Fives tensing, but he relaxes slightly when Rex murmurs a “couldn’t sleep, care if I keep you company?” to his back. He nods, curls into himself a little tighter, disappointed when Rex obliges but doesn’t touch him- _Echo would practically drape across him, snoring and looking so damn peaceful that Fives would never have the heart to wake him up, and he’d grown used to the touch, to the weight of someone else beside him as he slept-_ and he carefully, slowly rolls over until he’s facing Rex.

The Captain is silent, his own blanket bunched around his waist, his arms folded behind his head, and Fives inches forwards. He doesn’t want to be weird or anything, doesn’t want to seem clingy, but the warmth that Rex is emitting is too tempting to pass up, and he crosses the last few inches until he can press himself against the other, wrapping his arms firmly around his torso and simply holding on. One of Rex’s hands immediately snakes down to rub up and down his spine- _almost as if he’d been waiting for permission-_ , passing over every vertebrae there, and the action has him relaxing further.

For now, he pushes down the thoughts that surface, pointedly ignoring the fact that _Echo isn’t here,_ and instead burrows down further into the bunk.

“Sleep.” Rex murmurs, his other hand drifting to card through Fives’ hair absentmindedly, scritching gently at his scalp, and Fives leans into the hand. “I’ll be here if you need me, _vod._

He nods, let’s his burning eyes slide closed, and listens to the faint _thump thump, thump thump_ of Rex’s heart.

It’s a sound he could get used to.


	2. chasms.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I’m sorry I couldn’t save you._

He goes on his first mission without Echo the next week.

He doesn’t go alone, though. There’s another ARC with him, a quiet but reliable _vod_ , steady, with dark, solemn eyes. He’d seen brown eyes before, but none so dark as his. He doesn’t want to know why they’re so empty.

They work efficiently, but they’re not a team. There’s more than one occasion where they, quite literally, almost run straight into each other, and they’re left staring, surprised, in a silent battle of wills. The other ARC always backs down and gestures for Fives to take the lead.

He’s disturbingly familiar, and they’re halfway done with the mission when he realizes why.

The ARC- _Dakota, if he remembers correctly, but he hadn’t wanted to know his name. It would have made it easier when Fives had to leave his body behind-_ had Echo’s mannerisms. He hates thinking it, because Echo was different, was _special_ , no one could be Echo, but he caught himself staring at the other trooper more often than not.

Fives caught Dakota staring at him, too, but they both never said anything, and he decided to keep it that way.

He didn’t want to know Dakota’s story, he didn’t want to know his pain, didn’t want to know why his hands always shook when Fives pronounced certain words with a sharper accent, he didn’t _want_ to. But he finds, ironically, that he does.

They’re both grieving, he realizes, and the revelation has him glancing up at the other ARC from across the transport.

Their armor is covered in dirt and other fluids they pointedly ignore, Dakota’s visor trained on the ground, elbows on his knees, and it’s silent save for the rumble of the engines and the occasional update from their pilot.

Fives reaches up and takes his helmet off, setting it beside him with a weary sigh, and Dakota looks up at the sound. “You did good.” Fives says, and the other ARC nods- _he hasn’t even taken his pack off yet, hasn’t even strapped in, but Fives doesn’t say anything. It’s not his place-_ staring down at his hands.

He leaves it at that, then, leaning back and closing his eyes, determined to get some sleep, Echo or no Echo.

He’s jostled awake by the ship docking on the destroyer, and he grabs his helmet and slides it back on. Dakota was right where he’d left him, but he stands and makes his way to the ramp with a single minded determination. Fives admires him for that. He himself is much slower, because beyond those doors is his _vode_ , Rex and Kix and Jesse and _all of them_. All of them except Echo.

Fives gathers himself and makes himself stand next to Dakota all the same.

When the ramp lowers and they make their way down, Captain Rex is there to meet them, helmet held by his side, rare smile in place. “Welcome back,” He says softy, and maybe he can sense their mood, or maybe it’s the condition of their armor that has him treading so lightly, but Fives is grateful all the same.

“You miss me?” He jokes, and Rex gives a good-natured eye roll.

“You know we did.” Rex glanced at Dakota, expression softening just the slightest bit. “We’re glad to have you with us, trooper. Commander Bly told me a lot about you.”

“Thank you, sir.” Dakota’s voice is different, too. Fives hadn’t really cared to notice on the mission, but he noticed now that there’s something softer about it. Younger, maybe, with a lilt he can’t quite identify.

Rex motions for them to follow him, and they do, nodding to a few pilots idling nearby as they do. “I’m sure you both could use a shower and a good nights rest, so I scheduled the debriefing for 0600.”

“Sounds good.” Fives chimes, reaching up and lifting his helmet off, clipping it to his belt, acutely aware when Dakota doesn’t do the same.

Rex stops outside their barracks. “Dakota, you’ll be staying in general berthing. Our ARC barracks are currently undergoing some maintenance.”

Dakota shifts from one foot to the other, some of the mud caked to his boots flaking off in the process. “Thank you, sir.”

Rex leaves them at that, and there’s a moment where Dakota just stands there as if not really seeing, stained helmet still on, and Fives sighs and brushes past him. The door slides up to reveal the few _vode_ off duty, almost all of them lounging in various stages of undress, and he feels Dakota hesitantly enter behind him.

Kix and Jesse look up when they enter. “Hey, _vod_. How was the mission?”

“Fine. This is Dakota, he’s bunking with us for a bit.”

Kix blinks, eyes flickering over to the other ARC before sharing a look with Jesse.

Fives points to Echo’s bunk. “That’s your rack.”

Dakota doesn’t say anything, but Fives guesses that he reads something on the other’s faces, because he takes a step back. “‘Gonna wash up.” Is all he says, and then he’s leaving.

Kix opens his mouth, but Fives holds up a hand, tugging his chest-plate off with the other. The medic obeys, but not before giving him a sour look. He ignores it in favor of following after Dakota.

A shower sounds much too tempting to pass up, especially considering the alternative that was Kix’s ire.

* * *

Rex had known from the start that Fives was a challenge.

It was in his nature, he supposed, because he’d never encountered someone with rebellion seated so firmly in their bones. Especially in someone bred to obey.

Fives was stubbornly persistent, the type of person that you could rely on, the type of person _Rex_ had relied on. Echo had been that for Fives, had been the glue that held him together, and without it, Fives was crumbling.

Echo was as steady as Fives was inconsistent, and the two together were what every officer lived to see. Rex hadn’t realized just how much the two actually _needed_ each other until now, because the trooper walking around in Fives’ armor, the trooper wearing his skin and answering to his name, was _not_ Fives. Maybe a ghost- _an echo, he thinks ironically_ \- of him, an ARC and a _vod_ , but that’s where the similarities ended.

Pairing Fives with another ARC was risky, but pairing two ARCs, both unstable from the loss of their _vode_ to complete a mission together? He might as well have planned to say their names in remembrance that very night.

He agreed, however, because he _trusted_ Bly, trusted the commander to send someone good for Fives, someone who could _get the job done_ , and he’d ultimately been right. But the pain in Fives’ eyes, the tension in Dakota’s frame, said otherwise.

Putting them together had been a mistake.

Rex realized that now, too fucking _late_ , watching Fives push his food around on his tray sluggishly. Dakota was more or less the same, his helmet off- _a rarity, it seemed, because the ARC almost always had it on, whether to hide the pain in his eyes or to avoid confrontation, he hadn’t yet decided-_ staring down at his tray with a slightly nauseous look.

Jesse was making a halfhearted attempt at conversation, and Kix was doing an admirable job of giving him his full attention, nodding at the right times, occasionally humming or laughing, but his gaze would stray to the ARCs after a while, taking in the untouched food and matching expressions of anguish with a frown.

Rex wasn’t the only one to notice it, then. Good. Because he had _no idea_ what to do. He’d never seen a _vod_ take another’s death as hard, as _personal_ , as Fives had. ARC training was brutal, their occupations physically demanding in ways simple infantry troopers couldn’t understand, they were supposed to be getting _extra_ protein, not _less_. Cutting back rations would help _no one_ , let alone the dead.

Fives stands abruptly, leaving his tray behind as he makes for the door, and the troopers in the chow line step aside for his passing. Fives’ volatile nature had become more and more pronounced, it seemed, and Rex ignored Kix’s pointed look in favor of rising and following after him.

The halls are empty when he finally manages to get through the gathered _vode_ in the mess, and he stands, contemplative for a moment, before he’s doing in the direction of general berthing. It was a long shot, he knew, but he appeared to be right when the door slid open to reveal Fives on his bunk.

“You didn’t have to follow me, sir.”

“I’m worried about you.” He says honestly, and sees Fives’ jaw clenched.

“You shouldn’t be. I’m fine.” There’s a medal in his hand, held delicately, and Fives runs a thumb across the bronze almost reverently. The period of denial and seemingly endless anger were over. Rex isn’t surprised to find that Fives had skipped bargaining. A clones word, their _pain_ , meant nothing, pleading and begging would only be a waste of breath. Then, shakily, “This is all I have left.”

Rex’s heart tugs painfully, and he wishes, he _wishes_ that he had something else to offer, a photo or a piece of armor, but all he can give is his shoulder to cry on. Fives seems fine with that, though, too. His eyes are dry and his expression blank. “ _Vod’ika_...”

“I knew him my entire life, and this _karking_ medal is all I have.”

Rex sits on the edge of the bunk across from him, elbows on knees, trying and failing to catch his eye. “I’m sorry there’s nothing else.”

“Yeah,” Fives says lowly, tracing the tattered ribbon with a calloused finger. “Me too.”

It’s quiet for a moment, and then Rex sighs. “I’m sorry.”

“For Dakota.” It’s not said as a question, but Rex nods all the same.

“For Dakota. I didn’t realize how hard it would be to-“

“Move on?” Fives finally looks up at him, his eyes bloodshot and so indescribably _heartbroken_ that Rex has to look away.

“Yes,” He admits softly, and Fives reaches over and tucks the medal back beneath his bunk with a jerky nod. He can’t seem to figure out what to do with his hands after that, tucking them in his lap and picking at his gloves, something he doesn’t even seem to be aware of doing.

“So, what’s the training schedule for today?”

Rex frowned. “Maybe you should sit this one ou-“

“Sir.” Fives leveled him with a look. “I’m fine.”

He regarded the ARC for a moment before standing. “Dry fire drill, two squads, different teams, same objective. You get hit, you stay down. Still want to join?”

Fives’ grin didn’t quite meet Rex’s expectations, but he would take what he could get. “Always, sir.”

* * *

Jesse huffed, twitching from the awkward position he’d fallen in. “Sir, do we _have_ to stay like this the _entire_ time?”

“Dead people don’t talk, Jesse.”

“ _Sir_ -“ A _vod_ runs past and narrowly misses trampling over his arm, and the scout lets out a squawk. “Sir!”

“Hold, Jesse. They’re almost done.”

“Holding,” Jesse mutters sarcastically, and his training armor jolts, signaling another hit. “ _Oi_! Who did that?”

He catches a glimpse of Fives rolling to avoid a shot, and rolls his eyes at the way Tup stops to gawk at the move. It results, unsurprisingly, in Tup going down with a yelp. It’s quiet save for the sound of the others continuing on around them, barking warnings and curses alike, and a cramp starts in Jesse’s calf.

“Hi, sir.” Tup chimes unhelpfully, grinning over at him from his sprawled place on the floor, and Jesse scowls at him.

“Zip it, shiny.”

There’s a call for cease fire, and Jesse frowns. The simulation was still running, and he looks up in confusion. Rex was jogging over to a small barrier at the other end of the room before crouching. It takes Jesse a long moment to figure out what’s going on, but dread sinks like a stone in his gut when he sees the tip of Fives’ helmet over the shelter.

The rest of the _vode_ had gathered in their respective squads, murmuring together in low tones, and Jesse grabs the nearest trooper and gives them a shake. “What’s going on? What happened?”

The trooper squirms out of his hold, shaking his head. “He’s _crazy_ , man. Snapped and started saying-“

“Echo?” Jesse asked quickly, and the trooper had barely nodded before he was jogging over to join the captain. He stopped, however, when Rex held up a hand sharply, never once taking his eyes off Fives.

The ARC had pressed himself between two barriers, knees pulled up and training blaster clutched desperately to his chest, the trembles that racked his frame visible even from Jesse’s distance, and his helmeted head tilted towards him when he heard him arrive, voice small and shaky.

“Echo?”

“No, _vod_ ,” Rex inched closer, but immediately stopped when Fives tried to push himself further into the wall behind him. “Okay, okay, it’s okay, that’s Jesse, remember?”

“I need Echo.” Comes the wet response, and Fives curls into himself tighter.

Jesse hovers, swaying with the indecision of finding Kix or staying, and Rex finally glances over at him, motioning him over with a jerk of his head.

“I’ve got Jesse with me, that okay?”

Fives mumbles something, helmet hitting the wall with a _crack_ when he throws his head back, and Jesse flinches involuntarily. He was shaking so hard that it was audible, a scrape of plastoid against the tile of the training deck, and no sooner had Jesse hesitantly reached out a hand than it was slapped away by Kix.

The medic shoulders by them both, and Rex moves reluctantly. “I don’t know what happened, one of the shinies came and got me, said he-“

“Snapped, yes.” Kix said distractedly, biting the tip of his glove and tugging it off, doing the same to the other hand before tossing them both at Jesse. “I already talked to them. He’s having a panic attack.” His helmet came off next, and he made brief eye contact with Jesse before he looked away again. “Take off your helmet, Jesse.”

He obeys quickly, fumbling with the latch for a moment before there’s a soft _hiss_ , and he peels it off to set next to Kix’s.

Fives was still mumbling, shaking and letting out the occasional noise of pain, and Jesse was ashamed to realize he’d been staring. He’d never seen the ARC as vulnerable as he was now, and he felt more and more intrusive the longer he watched. This wasn’t for him, he wasn’t supposed to see, and he cleared his throat and averted his gaze, acutely aware when Rex didn’t do the same.

“Hey, _vod_ , do you know me?” Kix asks, sitting patiently on his heels, hands spread non-threateningly in front of him, and Fives’ whole body jerked with the force of the noise he let out.

“K-Kix,” The ARC rasped, his hands clenching and unclenching rhythmically around the blaster. “We have to stop him.”

Kix crept the slightest bit closer. “Who?”

“He’s going to the shuttle, Echo, we need to- I need to find him. Where is he?” When Kix doesn’t answer, Fives’ knees draw up tighter, voice on the edge of hysteria. “Kix, where is he?”

“He’s fine,” Kix soothes, and Fives practically gasps with the relief of it, blaster lowering until it’s nearly in his lap. It makes something sour settle on Jesse’s tongue. “Can I have the blaster? Please?”

Fives hands it over slowly, carefully, and Kix nods his thanks. “I’m gonna touch you, _vod_ , okay? That okay?”

“Where’s Echo?” Fives repeats again, shakier, but Kix is close enough to reach out and grab his shoulder. It has the opposite effect, and Fives reaches up so fast Jesse almost misses it, wrapping a hand around Kix’s wrist and _twisting_. There’s a sickening crunch of bone, followed by a yelp from the medic before Jesse surges forward and yanks him back by the shoulder straps.

He’s not a medic, but Kix’s wrist looks _horrible_. There’s the white press of bone threatening to break through skin, the bruising rising to be a dark, almost blackish purple, and when he reaches out for it, Kix cradles it to his chest. “It’s fine, it’s fine.” He snaps, trying to look over Jesse’s shoulder to see Fives, but Jesse stops him with a raised hands.

“It’s _not_ fine. What the hells were you _thinking_?”

“Sometimes touch helps,” Kix says angrily, but then goes sheepish when Jesse glares at him. “And sometimes it doesn’t. I’m fine, Jess, we need to-“

“Stop,” Fives suddenly whimpers behind them, followed by the shushing of a _vod_.

Jesse glances over his shoulder and sees Rex taking Kix’s place, albeit ten times as cautious, and he shakes his head. “Rex has this. You need to get this checked out right away. Is it broken?”

Kix lifts his wrist daintily and gives it the smallest of twitches before letting out a pained curse. “Think so. Just-“

“Kix.” Jesse says sharply, and Kix blinks up at him with wide eyes. “We’ve done this before, if anyone knows how to help a _vod_ it’s Rex.”

Kix scowls and wordlessly gets to his feet, giving one last pitying look in Fives’ direction before following Jesse out.

* * *

The hole Echo’s absence punched through his heart is a gaping, raw wound, festering and spreading until it’s an endless chasm of pain and loneliness and _please, come back._

Some days, he can handle it, can shove it down with tight-lipped smiles that no one notices any difference in, can laugh and keep going even when he’s breaking and screaming and _crying_ on the inside, and all the while he lies. He lies so, so much. To himself, to Rex, to everyone. Those are the good days.

The bad days are the days when the absence of Echo is so great that it physically hurts, each inhale a painful reminder that grates up his throat and croaks from his lips.

_He’s gone._

_He’s gone._

_He’s gone._

Fives is tired. He always is now, a bone deep exhaustion of someone who knows too much, hurts too deeply, and no amount of sleep seems to be able to fix it. He’s not hungry anymore, either, and he wonders when food had started to turn to ash in his mouth, because it’s suddenly impossible to chew, let alone consume.

_Come back._

He thinks he maybe tries to prove himself, why else would he push the need to train? Everything was fine, he was keeping up- _I’m a good soldier, I can still fight, please-_ when it all goes fuzzy.

The endless chasm swallows him whole.

_I’m sorry I couldn’t save you._

There’s someone in front of him, speaking in a language he should know and calling his name in a voice he should recognize, but it’s all _wrong_ , something’s wrong, he can _feel it_ deep in his chest, his pulse racing beneath his skin. “Echo?” He asks- _always asking, always pleading-_ and the person in front of him sighs.

“It’s Rex, Fives, Echo is-“

_Dead._

_Gone._

_No, that was a nightmare._

“Where is he?” He feels like he already knows the answer, like an itch he can’t quite scratch, and Rex scoots closer.

“Fives...” He says softly, and then Fives suddenly jolts, clarity flooding back in, and with it, the shame.

_Fuck._

His face burns in embarrassment, and he’s infinitely grateful that he’d had the good sense to keep his helmet on. He feels raw, spent, all the energy sapped from his body, and he goes limp with a quiet whimper.

Rex carefully reaches up for his helmet, and Fives lets him, eyes stinging and heart pounding before its lifted away. Fives can’t look at him, can’t look at _anyone_ , so he closes his eyes and tries to swallow down the nausea that rises in the back of his throat.

There’s a low murmur of voices, then, Rex and a different _vod_ he doesn’t want to identify, and then there’s a hand on his arm. The touch sends pins and needles through the appendage, and it feels- it feels _wrong_ , he’s never felt that before, not from a simple touch, but it’s been so long, so many nights spent alone, and he’s _**tired** , please._

“-et you someplace comfortable, yeah? Just need you to open those eyes for me.”

He opens his eyes _only_ because it’s Rex, and if he doesn’t, he’ll be a bad soldier, and he _can’t_ be a bad soldier because-

“Fives, Fives, easy, breathe for me.” Rex says quickly, reaching to steady him when he sways, eyes full of worry and fear, and Fives closes his eyes again with a small noise.

He doesn’t think he could make himself move if he wanted to. His strength is gone, replaced by a numb sort of indifference that makes everything an impossibly daunting task, and when he feels himself slipping, feels the dark, inky fingers that wrap around him and gently tug him closer, he lets it happen, ignoring the panicked shout of the captain from somewhere above him.

Because Fives knows better than anyone that nothing is eternal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, turns out i love making my boys go through pain before they’re happy, so i’ve decided to add a few more chapters to this :)

**Author's Note:**

> a request that i took way too long to do! i hope y’all enjoyed it! let me know if you have any more requests, I’m always happy to make someone’s day!


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